


House Call

by mountain_born



Series: The Marvelous Tale of an Agent, an Archer, and an Assassin [40]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Doctor Who/Avengers Crossover Fusion, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-23 23:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9686198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mountain_born/pseuds/mountain_born
Summary: In which Clint and River need downtime, some fences get mended, and the Doctor always has and always will want his friends to be happy.  Takes place a few days afterThis Is Where It Gets Complicated.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks once again to **like-a-raven** , the Super Beta! I think we even hit some sort of new milestone on this one with our first over-the-phone beta.
> 
> This is a quick, fun, and light fic which I felt inspired to do partly because my characters are closing in fast on the events of Demon's Run. I hope you enjoy it. As ever, stay tuned for more!

_June 2012_  
_Arlington, VA_

“Thanks again for inviting us,” Clint said for the fourth time since Phil and Valerie had picked him and River up from Reagan National Airport.

River looked over at him. Clint caught her eye and winced, meaning that he _knew_ he was repeating himself. Clint had been on board with accepting Valerie Custis’s invitation to come to Arlington for a visit, for which River was very grateful. They both needed a few days in the real, non-superhero world. And they both missed Phil, who still had several weeks of rehab to go before he was cleared to come back to work. All the same, Clint seemed to have been suffering from a serious case of social awkwardness ever since they’d gotten off the plane.

Valerie, who was driving, glanced up into the rearview mirror. “I’m glad you two could come,” she said, giving no indication at all that she’d been thanked multiple times now.

And she genuinely did sound glad. Given that the first (and only) time she’d met Clint and River they’d been deliberately hostile to her, River thought that was very decent of her.

Phil turned in the passenger seat, looking at them in the back of the SUV. “Valerie’s planning on steaks for dinner. That’s good with you guys, right?”

“That sounds lovely,” River replied.

Four days away from SHIELD in general sounded lovely. River and Clint had just come off their first assigned mission as part of the Avengers. It was supposed to have been a milk run. Instead they had wound up on the Moon. Clint had spent the last three days trying to turn that into a joke about green cheese.

River watched curiously out of the window as they drove to Valerie’s house. Valerie Custis lived in an older neighborhood in Arlington. The houses here were big and solid and the yards were shaded by tall trees. It was the sort of neighborhood where Americans liked to set family television shows, with good reason. It was a very appealing looking place.

Valerie turned into the driveway of a large white colonial and pulled into the garage, parking next to an old, red VW Beetle with a convertible top. River reached over and poked Clint, nodding at the car. _Artifact from Phil’s past._ Phil had occasionally, over the years, dropped remarks about his college days and the tininess of the backseat of his girlfriend’s car. Clint smirked. They both quickly composed themselves as Valerie and Phil turned to look at them.

“Here we are,” Valerie said. “Come on in. Phil will help you get settled while I get dinner started. Just beware of the guard dog.”

“Guard dog?” Clint said.

Valerie led them inside the house and grinned over her shoulder. “He loves attention and he’ll be excited to see you. Jackson! Come here, boy.”

River heard the click of toenails on the floorboards as a large, brindled pit bull, white in the muzzle, walked slowly around the corner. Clint suddenly beamed, his face lighting up like a five-year-old’s on Christmas morning. River hadn’t seen that expression since before the Battle of New York. That alone would have made this trip worth it.

“Hey there, boy,” Clint said, squatting down in front of the dog and rubbing his ears. “You remember me?”

Phil smiled, folding his arms and leaning against the wall. “River, do you know this story?” he asked.

“About the litter of puppies he brought along on an air evac? Oh, yes. He told me.” That had been a few years before River’s time at SHIELD, and it was far from an isolated incident. Clint was forever finding strays, and he put in time at the Assisi Society, the animal rescue near SHIELD Headquarters, as regularly as his schedule would allow.

Jackson’s tail was wagging and his tongue was lolling, and he whined happily when River reached down to scratch his back. River glanced up and saw Valerie watching with approval. Valerie Custis would be the sort of person to trust her dog’s instincts about people. 

Ever since she’d been a little girl, River had made a game of observation. Like most of the games of her foster parents had taught her, it had a practical purpose. A good operative had to be able to read people, situations, and her environment and act on those observations accordingly. It was child’s play to do it in a place like Valerie’s home, but an informative exercise nonetheless.

Valerie Custis was well-schooled in social graces. River could appreciate that; it was a skill set that was often neglected these days. It had been a part of River’s early education, too. Hell, she’d infiltrated a debutante ball at Buckingham Palace in 1956 just to for fun. Valerie favored substance and comfort over style judging by her house and its furnishings. She might live alone (Phil’s long visit notwithstanding) but the number of photographs on her refrigerator and kitchen bulletin board suggested a close extended family.

Valerie wasn’t the only one River observed. Phil, she noted over dinner, had taken to domestic life very well. She knew that Clint had been worrying that Phil was taking to it a little _too_ well. Phil had almost died in the line of duty, and here he had a woman with whom he had a history, with whom he seemed very compatible, and with whom he’d been in a more-or-less committed relationship for years. It wouldn’t have been unreasonable for Phil to decide that he wanted to take a desk job in DC, or even leave SHIELD altogether and try to build a different sort of life.

Thank heaven for the Avengers. Even if Phil had entertained any thoughts of leaving, River knew that he’d never pass on the opportunity to run the Avengers. Phil spent the entire meal asking questions about the mission, and he already had a lot of ideas about team structure and leadership.

“I told him that the first thing he should do is find you guys a PR representative who knows more than two words,” Valerie said.

“I have a couple of people in mind,” Phil said. “Quincy, maybe. She’s personable. Or Delgado. He has a background in communications.”

“Just lock whoever you pick into a room with Stark and Rogers for an hour and see if he or she’s in a fetal position by the end of it,” Clint suggested. 

“Just Stark and Rogers? Not all of you?” Valerie asked.

“Well, they’re the public ones,” Clint said. “Thor can leave the planet, Banner can hide behind the Hulk, and no one really cares about the two of us.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Valerie said, passing Clint the basket of rolls. “Hawkeye and Talon are more popular than you might think. You’re actually my dad’s two favorite Avengers.”

According to Valerie, the whole “ordinary people doing their jobs” thing had some strange sort of appeal. Clint glanced across the table at River, his expression hovering somewhere between H.P. Lovecraft and Stephen King on the horror scale. River just smiled and shrugged.

“Some people have even called that you two are a couple,” Valerie said, “though as far as I can tell, that’s based more on the fact that it makes for a good story than on any sort of evidence.”

“But don’t worry. Valerie neither confirms nor denies knowing anything about any of you,” Phil added.

“Not even to my own family,” Valerie said. “Trust me, if my niece, Mina, knew that there was only one degree of separation between me and Thor, I’d never get any peace.”

“So, Valerie seems cool with Phil going back to SHIELD,” Clint said later when he and River were upstairs in their guest room.

“She does,” River agreed, putting away her toothbrush and turning off the bathroom light. Clint was already in bed, lying on his back, hands laced under his head. River crawled in beside him. “But then I think Phil considered his job a hindrance to their relationship far more than she ever did.”

“Yeah. I’m so glad we never had that problem.” Clint turned on his side, wrapping one arm around her and tugging her closer. “We just had to get past that whole thing where I was sent to kill you.”

River chuckled. “And then you shanghaied me instead.”

“Yeah.” Clint kissed the top of her head. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s all right. I got to spring aliens and time travel on you. I think that makes us even.”

River felt Clint laugh. She wrapped her arm around him, settling herself comfortably under his chin. 

“Did you notice the windows?” Clint asked after a few moments.

River nodded against his shoulder. “Bullet-proof glass. All of them from what I could see.”

“Motion sensors at the doors, too. And that security panel in the kitchen sure as hell didn’t look like civilian issue.”

“Phil must have made some home improvements,” River said.

“Yeah,” Clint replied. “Do you kind of get the feeling that Phil’s basically been married all these years and just never said anything about it?”

“A bit,” River said. “I have to say, it agrees with him.”

“Yeah. It does.”

*****

The next morning, Clint went downstairs while River was still in the shower, lured by the smell of coffee.

The kitchen (actually the whole first floor) seemed deserted, but the coffee pot was full. Mugs and stuff were set out on the counter, so Clint helped himself and settled down on one of the barstools. 

After a few minutes Clint heard footsteps coming from behind a door in the corner of the kitchen. Judging by the creakiness, Clint guessed that that must be the door that led down to the basement. A moment later, Valerie appeared carrying a laundry basket. Jackson was at her heels. The dog immediately came over to investigate Clint again.

“Oh, good morning,” Valerie said, setting the basket down on the end of the bar. “Good, you found the coffee.”

“Morning.” Clint left off scratching Jackson’s head and glanced guiltily down at his coffee mug. “Yeah, sorry. I wasn’t sure whether--”

But Valerie waved him off mid-sentence. “No, it’s fine. I want you guys to feel at home.” She poured a mug for herself and leaned back against the counter. “Did you sleep all right?”

“Yeah. Great. It’s a nice place.” Jackson shook his head and went to flop down on the large dog bed under the window. Clint glanced toward the staircase, hoping to see River. And where the hell was Phil? Still, maybe it was better that it was just the two of them for a second. “Look,” he said, “about New York, when you came up to see Phil in the hospital. . .River and I both feel really bad about it. You didn’t deserve that.”

“None of us were at our best that week. We were all worried.” Valerie half-smiled. “And Phil told me you and River were under the impression that I’d broken his heart.”

“Yeah. I’m still sorry.”

“I appreciate the apology.”

“River’s plotting one, too. Just as a head’s up.” Clint felt his shoulders unknot in relief now that that was done. He cast about for a new topic of conversation. “So, your security is impressive.”

Valerie laughed. “Phil’s been puttering with my security system for years. I asked him once which house was more secure: mine or the big white one on Pennsylvania Avenue.”

“Well, yours,” Clint said automatically. “You don’t have tour groups coming through.”

“That’s just what Phil said. He even built a panic room in my basement. Jackson and I could hide down there for a week if we needed to.”

“Now if I could just convince you not to store your Christmas tree in it,” Phil said coming into the kitchen. 

“Yes, well, you built it in the corner where I stored my Christmas tree,” Valerie said. Clint got the impression that this was a long-standing, good-humored argument between the two of them.

Valerie fixed a cup of coffee for Phil, and it didn’t escape Clint’s notice that she made it exactly the way Phil took it without having to ask. That level of familiarity was already starting to sit a little easier with Clint, feel a little less strange.

It was all part of the new world, right?

*****

Phil had known (well, he had strongly hoped) that once Valerie and Clint and River had a chance to get to know each other without any misunderstandings in the way, they’d get along really well. He was glad to be proven right. Granted, it had only been two days and company manners were still cautiously in effect, but the mood in Valerie’s house was easy and comfortable.

He brought up the subject with River when they had a moment alone, sitting out on Valerie’s back deck.

“Well, it helps that we have a very compelling mutual interest,” River said. When Phil looked at her questioningly, River gave him that small smile that reminded him that she had a few decades on him. “You, Phil.”

“Ah. Right,” Phil said a little sheepishly. “But. . .you like her beyond that?”

Not that he was going to knock the idea that Clint and River would put in effort to get along with Valerie just for Phil’s sake, but his hope was that they’d like Valerie on her own merits, too. Phil hadn’t realized how important that was to him until he had started trying to knit these two halves of his life together.

“I do,” River said. “It’s easy to see why you kept coming back all these years.”

“How about Clint?” Phil asked.

He knew that Clint would be the tougher nut to crack. Clint’s childhood and adolescence had been marked by losing loved ones, and that had served to make him territorial about his people. (That was the assessment by SHIELD Psych, anyway.)

River looked over her shoulder, through the window into the kitchen. Phil followed her gaze. Clint was inside helping Valerie make a batch of lemonade.

“He does. I think they would have bonded over a love of dogs even if everything else had failed,” River said. “Don’t worry, Dad. Your two families are blending nicely.”

Phil rolled his eyes at her, mostly because River seemed to expect it, then got up to open the back door for Valerie and Clint.

It was a cool afternoon for Arlington in June. The four of them sat out on the deck with their glasses of lemonade, talking about nothing of any consequence or importance. Valerie told stories about college-aged Phil, and Phil returned the favor. Clint and River countered with stories about Phil from SHIELD. Phil told stories about some of Clint and River’s shenanigans at home and abroad. Jackson happily migrated from person to person as if determined to soak up as much affection as possible, occasionally venturing off to wander around the fenced back yard. 

Valerie was in the middle of the infamous story behind Phil’s second tattoo when Jackson suddenly started barking. Valerie broke off, frowning at the dog. Jackson was standing in the back yard, hackles raised, barking at (from what Phil could see) absolutely nothing. 

“Jackson!” Valerie called. “That’s enough, boy.”

Jackson ignored her, which was unusual. Valerie was a big believer in obedience training. Her dogs tended to listen better than the average probationary SHIELD recruit. Phil had never seen her get anything less than quick compliance from Jackson if she told him to do something. 

Then Jackson stopped barking, turned tail, and ran back up onto the deck. That was unusual, too. Jackson was edging into “elderly” in dog years. Phil hadn’t seen him move that fast in a while. He ran straight to Valerie, pressing against her legs.

“Jackson, what on Earth. . .?” Valerie said.

“Listen,” River said. She looked to Clint and Phil. “Do you hear it?”

Phil did hear it, a distinctive whining, wheezing groan. _There goes the neighborhood,_ he thought as the TARDIS materialized right in the middle of Valerie’s back yard and the Doctor, Amy, and Rory piled out.

“Ah, there they are,” the Doctor said, waving at the foursome on the deck. “River! Clint! We got your messages!” 

Clint and River quickly went out to meet them. Phil looked at Valerie. Her eyes were very wide. 

“I can explain,” he said. 

“You’d better,” she replied, but by the quirk of her eyebrow, Phil knew she was more intrigued than anything. 

Phil had run with the Doctor for almost four years, so he to remind himself that this scene looked really weird from the outside. To say nothing of the conversation. 

“So, that’s when we realized we had messages from you two,” Amy was saying to River and Clint as Phil and Valerie walked up to join the rest of the group. “We came straight away, but it looks like we missed all the fun.” 

“Yeah, by about five days,” Clint said. 

“Overshot you just by a bit,” the Doctor added a bit sheepishly. “But you seem to have managed quite well on your own.” 

“The Judoon actually transported a hospital to the Moon?” Rory said. “The whole thing?” 

“It’s a long story,” River said. “Speaking of long stories, where _were_ you lot?” 

“We were a bit tied up. Literally,” the Doctor said. “Mata Hari. Very interesting woman. You two would probably like her a good deal. All that spying and intrigue. Phil!” The Doctor beamed at him. “You’re looking a good deal healthier. Good to see you up and about again. And who’s this?” 

“Guys, this is Valerie Custis. My girlfriend.” Phil was still getting used to saying that. It felt a little bit absurd to be forty-six-years-old and talk about having a girlfriend, but it was still better than Valerie’s tongue-in-cheek word choice: _paramour._ “Val, this is Amy Pond and her husband, Rory Williams. And this is the Doctor. He’s a Time Lord.” 

“Time Lord?” Valerie asked. 

“Fancy term for _time traveler._ My people were rather fond of their dramatic titles. Time and space. I get around. Just call me the Doctor.” The Doctor shook Valerie’s hand. “Pleased to meet you. Lovely back garden you have here. And. . .sorry, what was that?" 

Jackson, who had followed Phil and Valerie, gave a second low _woof_ at the Doctor. 

“Ah, yes.” The Doctor addressed the dog directly. “It would have been better manners to park around front and ring the doorbell. Sorry about that.” He looked up now at Valerie. “Your dog is a bit of a stickler for formality. He would have made quite a good butler.” 

Phil knew Valerie of old, and knew that what was going through her head was some variation of _Okaaaaay._ What she said out loud was, “It’s always good to meet more of Phil’s friends. I was just starting to think about dinner. Can you all stay? I’m making pasta.” 

Judging from some of his own past experiences traveling in time and space, this was one of the more hospitable greetings the Doctor and his companions had been on the receiving end of. They accepted in between declarations of, “We don’t want to put you out,” and “If it’s not too much trouble.” Phil didn’t miss that Clint elbowed Rory and stage-whispered, “Trust me man, you _want_ to stay for dinner.” 

“Great,” Valerie said. “I’m just going to go get that started. Phil, could you give me a hand?” 

Phil followed Valerie into the house curiously. Her request for help had, in reality, been a request to talk to him alone, but he couldn’t think why. There was nothing in Valerie’s body language that suggested that a red alert was in effect, and thanks to Valerie’s crazy mother, Irene, Phil knew what a red alert looked like. Still, as soon as they were in the house, Valerie stepped into the corner where she could spy on the back yard without being seen, and waved Phil over to join her. 

“What’s wrong?” Phil asked, scooting in beside her. The corner wasn’t really big enough for two people. 

“Your friend, the Doctor?” Valerie said. “I’ve met him before.” 

That threw Phil a bit. “What? When?” 

“1996. I had lunch with him at Ben’s Chili Bowl.” 

Granted, the Doctor got around, and Phil knew that he crossed paths with a lot of people. Statistically, it might not be too far out there that Valerie had randomly encountered him. Or so Phil told himself. 

“That guy?” Phil pointed out the kitchen window. “You’re sure?” 

“Skinny, British, tweed jacket, bow tie? Even in Washington DC, he’s kind of memorable.” Valerie backed them both out of the corner and over to the kitchen island where there was more space. “I was eating lunch at the counter and looking at trip brochures. It was almost a year after the divorce, my life was finally settling out and feeling normal, and I’d decided it was time for a vacation. This guy— _that_ guy—comes up and takes the stool next to me. He sees my brochures and we start talking.” 

“About what?” 

“About where to go on vacation,” Valerie said. “He had a lot of great things to say about Miami. By the time we finished lunch, I was sold. I booked the trip that evening.” 

Puzzle pieces snapped into place in Phil’s head. 

Miami in 1996: He’d been down there wrapping up a mission. Valerie had been there on vacation. They’d randomly run into each other on the street. It had been the first time they’d seen each other in eight years. They reconnected and the rest was history. 

Phil had always thought it had been one hell of a coincidence. It was looking like coincidence had nothing to do with it at all. 

“You went to Miami because the Doctor convinced you to go,” he said. 

“Yeah. I had all but decided to go to Maine,” Valerie said. “Seriously, who plans a vacation to Florida in the middle of July? But. . .” Valerie’s brow furrowed as she looked back out the kitchen window, “just now he acted like he’d never met me before.” 

“Well, he’s a time traveler. He has this tendency to meet people in the wrong order. This probably _is_ the first time he’s met you.” 

“Phil?” Valerie looked like she was caught somewhere halfway between awe and a fit of laughter. “Did we get parent-trapped by an alien?” 

“I think we might have.” Phil looked out into the backyard where the others were still gathered in a knot, talking. “I’ll be damned.” 

It would be just like the Doctor, wouldn’t it? Looking out for his friends in his own unique way. 

“Your life is weird, Coulson,” Valerie said. 

“Yeah. I know.” Phil looked at Valerie. “Are you still cool with being part of it?” 

“Always.” 


End file.
